Disclaimers: The characters in this story are copyrighted by Warner Brothers and Shoot The Moon Productions. I make no money from these characters; I simply like to share their world for a short time.

A/N Just a little glimpse into Lee's and Amanda's thoughts on their lives and relationship. Hope you enjoy! (Constructive reviews are always welcome.) A special thanks to Bruce Boxleitner and Kate Jackson—as well as the rest of the cast—for portraying these characters so wonderfully.

Agency. She had never even heard of the Agency before that fateful morning at the train station. Sure, there were rumors. But living in DC meant that there were always rumors of one kind or another—all associated with the government in some way. So it really didn't surprise her to find out that there was a secret 'agency' of spies working right out of a Georgetown office. (Well, really, under a Georgetown office, but why argue!)

And now she was a part of that clandestine 'agency.' Yes . . . she was only civilian auxiliary, but she truly felt like she belonged. Mrs. Marsten greeted her every morning, even if it was only to give her the agency ID after she had, finally, remembered the password. She knew about the secret elevator in the coat closet. The military guards posted outside the bullpen always said good morning to her and held the door open so she could enter. She knew all the people that worked in the bullpen by name, and they always exchanged smiles, if not verbal hellos.

Then there was Francine. While she knew Francine thought of her as a suburban housewife and nothing more, she was certain that a friendship of sorts was growing. At least she hoped it was!

Mr. Melrose was different. He had quickly become her ally and a very good friend. She knew he was instrumental in getting her the job she had and instrumental in pairing her with the Scarecrow.

What about Lee? They were partners, even if he didn't want to admit it. And they had become very good friends. And she definitely liked the thought that they could be much, much more . . . all thanks to the Agency!

Agency. Where would he be now if it wasn't for Harry V. Thornton and the Agency? He thanked his lucky stars every day that Harry had recruited him. He and the Agency were a perfect fit. The intelligence community needed someone like him—someone who wasn't afraid to do the dirty work associated with espionage . . . someone who didn't have any family ties . . . someone who didn't mind being undercover and/or overseas for months at a time . . . someone who was a lone wolf. Yes, that was him!

The Agency had tried pairing him with numerous partners over the years. The last had been Eric . . . the mere thought of his death made him curse the Agency! Damn them for making him 'feel' again.

Of course the Agency also required its share of paperwork. Now that was something he could do without. But then there were always the girls in the steno pool for that. All he had to do was flash them one of his dimpled grins, and they would do anything for him . . . and he truly meant 'anything.'

For the past few years, though, he hadn't felt a need to wander to the steno pool; he just turned over his paperwork to Amanda for completion. After all, she had been a part of the cases. It was just easier to have her type up the reports.

Hmmm . . . sounded like she was becoming his new partner. Well, if he had to have one, he couldn't think of anyone better!

Adventure. That was the primary reason she had become a Junior Trailblazer Den Mother. Her boys loved adventure and, quite frankly, so did she. It was invigorating to spend a few days out in the woods, living off the land. She had to admit, however, that it was also great to come back home to a nice, comfy bed and hot and cold running water. (That's why she had refused to follow Joe to Africa; there was a limit to the amount of adventure she could handle in any given week!)

It was also adventurous to learn about all types of different things—like when they had gone to the TV station that time. Now that had been a true adventure. Wait . . . it really wasn't so much the TV station as what happened afterwards. Had she really piloted a helicopter? In the past few years she had helped defuse at least two bombs; driven a top-secret, lethal motorhome; been kidnapped numerous times, once being mistaken for the famous Scarecrow; been shot at, tied up, drugged, etc.; and the list continued . . .

Maybe she was beginning to enjoy her life's adventures a little bit more. There certainly were more of them. But then she guessed that's what came with life at the Agency. No . . . it was more like that's what came with life as Lee Stetson's partner. The more she thought about all her recent adventures, the more she began to realize that it wasn't so much the adventures that she enjoyed but the fact that they included Lee. That was truly a pleasant thought.

Adventure. That should have been his middle name! He couldn't remember a time when he wasn't on some kind of adventure or another. Maybe before his parents were killed . . . but even then he was on his own, imaginary adventures.

Life with the Colonel was always an adventure, although many times it wasn't a pleasant one. Moving every few years had permitted him to see much of the world, but it also meant sacrificing friendships.

Life at his many colleges was definitely adventurous-especially since he was more interested in the beautiful co-eds than his studies.

But nothing compared to the adventures that being an intelligence operative afforded him. He got to see the world. Wait . . . seeing the world now often meant the back alleyways, prisons—the hellholes of the world. And many times he was being shot at, tied up, tortured. Oh well, that was adventure, too, he mused.

When he wasn't working, he seemed to have lots of beautiful ladies to be adventurous with. They kind of made up for the other, not so great, adventures. But lately even the loveliest ladies in his little black books just weren't cutting it.

Hmmm . . . there was one slender brunette that he definitely wanted to share all his adventures with—and she wasn't in any of his little black books.

Action. She liked to think she was a woman of action. Well . . . at least of perpetual motion. She was always on the go; with two active boys—and an active mother—there was never time to just sit and relax. When she did get the chance, it was usually because her mother had volunteered to take the boys out to the movies for a few hours. Or maybe she had taken them to visit Aunt Lillian for a long weekend. She really regretted not going with them on a few occasions, but she had just needed some 'me' time . . . all mothers could understand that one!

Lately, however, that 'me' time was often interrupted by a tap on her kitchen window . . . followed by two incredible hazel eyes over a dimpled grin looking in to see what she was doing. And his appearance at her window was usually the start of more action, as it usually meant another case to solve. How did he do it? It seemed like he had radar that told him that she had a few minutes to herself. And those minutes to herself turned into hours or days helping him solve a case.

Of course she could always say no . . . yeah, right . . . like that was ever going to happen. She didn't think she could ever say no to action if it involved Lee.

Action. Yes, he was definitely a man of action. That was a great part of why he had joined the Agency. There was never a dull moment in the espionage business—if you didn't count the paperwork, that is. And there were mounds and mounts of it to wade through every week. Reports to be written; reports to be read. Reports to be filed; reports to be studied.

And the meetings. The boring, endless meetings—especially those that involved Dr. Smyth. That man could put him to sleep faster than the most potent knock-out drops. (Luckily Billy usually ran interference and kept Smyth's comments to a minimum. But Billy could only do so much!)

Lately, though, the paperwork and meetings hadn't seemed too bad. Sure, he missed the action. But there was something oddly soothing about those pesky reports. And the meetings didn't bother him near as much as usual. He must be getting old . . . why else would he be feeling this way? Why else wouldn't he be missing the action?

Maybe it wasn't that he was growing older. Maybe it had more to do with his 'partner'? Working on reports with Amanda had turned into a rather pleasant experience. And meetings, as long as Amanda was sitting next to him, had become downright enjoyable.

Hmmm . . . maybe they could share a little 'action'? Okay, Stetson, get your mind out of the gutter!

Adaptable. Boy did that every describe her. She went from daughter to mother to intelligence operative every day of her life. And as an intelligence operative she went from civilian auxiliary to clerical (helping with Lee's reports) to Lee's partner. Well . . . he didn't exactly want to acknowledge her as his partner, but that was another story.

All the intelligence operative 'stuff' had to be kept secret from her mother and the boys. Now that required some adaptability. She was just about out of plausible stories to tell her family. She still couldn't believe that her mother actually believed some of the stories she had told. Well . . . maybe she could . . . after all, she had told her mother the truth once. It was when there was a dirty bomb in DC. She had told her mother about the bomb. She had even told her mother that she was a spy. Did her mother believe her—NO!

Lee also tested her adaptability. One minute she was simply his secretary—available at his beck and call to do all his paperwork. The next minute she was supposed to drop everything at home and join him on some stakeout or another. Then later, she was asked to pose as a reporter, an administrative assistant, a tourist, or—better yet—his wife. That certainly required adapting her thinking . . . although not by much if she was truthful with herself!

Adaptable. That word went along with life at the Agency. Even the most simple meet could turn lethal in a split second; the easiest drop could go sour in a matter of moments. No matter how much training an agent had, there was always something occurring that wasn't in the textbooks. A good agent learned to think on his or her feet. That kind of adaptable thinking kept you alive!

That kind of adaptability was also something that couldn't be taught. Good agents were adaptable by nature. If he had to formulate a list of the ten most adaptable agents . . . well, if he was honest with himself, Amanda would top that list—even though she wasn't a full agent yet. She seemed to be able to adapt to any situation. Although she was simply a suburban housewife, she had managed to drive the Vigilant like a pro. She had also gotten Lester the Duck to talk—which in turn kept Lee from killing Billy. Then she had managed to joke about it while leaving the room! She had also used a baseball bat, lamp, and various other assorted every-day items to overpower the bad guys—or at least distract them enough that he could do the overpowering!

And, best of all, she had adapted to being his partner.

Hmmm . . . could she adapt to being more than his partner? He certainly hoped so.

Accomplishments. Wow . . . she had many accomplishments in her life—the greatest one being bringing two wonderful boys into the world—and raising them practically single-handedly. Not that their father didn't wander in and out of their lives. It was just that he wasn't a constant presence. And she did have her mother's help, for which she was eternally grateful!

Come to think of it, though, most of her other accomplishments had come in the past few years. And they were all a direct result of her work with the Agency. How many crisis had she managed to help avert? How many criminals were now behind bars because of her contributions to the cause? How many lives had she helped to save? Why, just by cutting the blue wire and defusing that dirty bomb, she had undoubtedly saved millions! She even had a presidential commendation for her quick thinking when Lee had pretended to be burned out. Too bad she couldn't tell anyone in her family about these accomplishments!

There was one other accomplishment of which she was particularly proud—and she knew Mr. Melrose was proud of it too! She had managed to tame the Scarecrow. All she had to do was put a hand on his arm, and he turned from an angry, frustrated, uncooperative agent into a much calmer, reasonable man. She still wasn't sure exactly how she had done it, but she sure liked to think about what it could mean.

Accomplishments. Unfortunately, he didn't have many accomplishments to be proud of. He had managed to graduate from college, but only after being thrown out of several along the way. He had seen much of the world, but that wasn't really an accomplishment; it was simply due to his uncle's various postings.

He was hired by the Harry Thornton and the Agency. He did see that as an accomplishment. And being selected by Paul Barnes for the Oz Network was an even bigger one. Everyone he knew was jealous that Paul had chosen him even though he was quite young and lacked a lot of experience.

Billy seemed to think he was a pretty good agent, too. And coming from Billy, that was quite an accomplishment. He was tough on his agents, but he was fair, too. Lee often liked to think that Billy and his father were cut from the same mold.

He had also managed to recruit the best civilian auxiliary helper the Agency had—even if it was by accident that day at the train station. He had helped to train her in the ways of the Agency, even if she didn't always follow orders. Hell, she never followed orders—especially the order to stay in the car. And guns . . . don't even go there . . . he didn't think she would ever get over her fear of them, yet alone be able to fire one.

But she had indeed been able to help him accomplish one extremely important thing in his life. He now had feelings. He was actually beginning to care again—be human again—after enduring so much pain in his life. Damn . . . he might even be falling in love.

Hmmm . . . that was something he thought he would NEVER do. That was an accomplishment for someone like him!

Awesome. Just how many times had she heard that word come out of her sons' mouths? She didn't even want to contemplate the count. To them, everything was AWESOME—said with such exuberance—and always with a smile on their faces. Their skateboards were AWESOME. Their bikes were AWESOME. Spending time with their friends was AWESOME. Going to the movies was AWESOME. Eating pizza—or almost any other food—was AWESOME. Even their mom and grandmother were AWESOME—but only at certain times. Like when they were in the privacy of their home—certainly never in the presence of their friends. But . . . then . . . they were becoming teenagers. She was just glad they still felt that way, even if they didn't always show it.

Oh, she knew if they found out she was a 'spy' they would consider that AWESOME too. But that was something they couldn't know—at least not now.

Did she consider her work awesome? Making a difference sure felt awesome. And working with terrific people like Mr. Melrose, Leatherneck, and even Francine was awesome. The really awesome part, however, was being partnered with Lee. She didn't think there was anything about him that wasn't awesome. Actually, she thought that should be AWESOME—said with exuberance and a great big smile!

Awesome. He seldom used the word; it was reserved for the younger generation. Oh, he did think his job was awesome. How many people got to do what he did? He loved the fact that he was making a difference in the world, even if most people didn't realize it.

But nothing else in his life was really awesome. In fact, it was anything but.

Although . . . if he really thought about it . . . the past few years his life had begun to turn into awesome. The reason, if he was honest with himself, was Amanda. Handing her that package at the train station just might have turned his life into something awesome. After all, she was becoming an awesome agent and partner . . . and she was already an awesome mom. She certainly had an awesome body; that was evident even in jeans and a t-shirt! Her hair was awesome, especially when she wore it up with those little tendrils trailing down across her neck; it even smelled awesome. She was an awesome dancer, cook, and daughter. She was even an awesome rambler!

Hmmm . . . he was willing to bet that she was just AWESOME at anything she did. Time to get his mind out of the gutter yet again! Sure seemed like it was going there quite often lately—all thanks to Amanda.